


The Desolation of the Strip

by charliechick117



Series: The Hobbit Heist [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Heist, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21644320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliechick117/pseuds/charliechick117
Summary: After a miraculous escape from Azog and his gang, Thorin and his heist team were one state away from Las Vegas and reclaiming the fortune.However, the trip from Utah to Nevada was fraught with more perils than they imagined.  With time ticking away until the Oakenshield Fortune was moved, they would need all the support they could get.  Meanwhile, Azog discovers a new sponsor for his quest to kill Thorin.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bofur/Nori (Tolkien), Dwalin/Ori (Tolkien)
Series: The Hobbit Heist [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1496126
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Welcome to part 2 of the Hobbit Heist AU. Unlike part 1, I don't have this entirely written so updates will happen as I write it. I've been super excited about this since I started this AU and I'm excited to bring you on this journey with me :D
> 
> Also, the title may change as I come up with a better one (maybe).

Just outside of the Fishlake National Forest, a few miles from the Interstate, was the small city of Richfield, Utah. It was a small city, nestled between the forest and the mountains. Instead of following Gandalf into the city, which is what Thorin was expecting, Gandalf led them to a small house on the edge of the wilderness.

“There’s a house here,” Gandalf said as the heist team trudged through the brambles. “He’s an old contact of mine. He’ll keep you safe. For now.”

“Who is it?” Thorin asked. “Will he aid us or not?”

Gandalf didn’t answer and, instead, pushed the group along through the edge of the forest. Thorin kept a careful eye out for his little heist team. Fili and Kili were walking side by side, already bouncing back from their battle on the freeway. Bofur and Nori hung in the back, smiling softly to each other and holding hands. Thorin chuckled to himself at the sight, two hardened criminals walking like young teens in love for the first time.

“They are quite adorable, aren’t they?” Bilbo looked back at Bofur and Nori as he wandered up next to Thorin.

Thorin looked down at Bilbo. Everything he had assumed about Bilbo had been all wrong. Bilbo was not a soft and meek man, he had a fighting spirit. He knew loyalty and honor and despite everything that the heist had thrown at him, Bilbo took it in stride.

“They’ve been dancing around each other for years,” Thorin chuckled. “I’m more surprised they haven’t been together sooner.”

Gandalf led them through the trees on a half-traveled path. The longer they walked on it, the better it looked. The trodden down dirt gave way to gravel and, before Thorin knew it, they were walking into a clearing with a gorgeous cabin in the center. Standing outside of the cabin, shirtless and chopping firewood, was a large man with thick, dark hair.

“Now, let me do the talking,” Gandalf said. “Beorn is not particularly fond of large groups of people. However, he’s the only one who can help us. With luck, he’ll be in a good mood today.”

The heist team exchanged wary looks. They were injured and hungry with hardly any supplies to their name and the sun was rapidly beginning to set. They had only their guns and the clothes on their back. If this Beorn decided to send them away, they would never reach Las Vegas.

“Well, we’ve got nothing to lose,” Bofur eventually chimed in. “Besides, we’re a charming bunch.”

Gandalf nodded and led them slowly to Beorn’s cabin. Everyone behind Thorin started whispering immediately. He could make out Dwalin and Ori chatting about their next steps, Oin muttering about the injuries everyone had sustained, and Fili and Kili’s whispered laughter. Bilbo walked a little closer to Thorin, until their arms brushed with every step. It took every bit of Thorin’s self-restraint not to take Bilbo’s hand in his own.

“Beorn!” Gandalf called as they approached.

Beorn turned around, sweat gleaming on his chest and he pushed his hair back from his face. He had a rough beard and bright eyes that looked critically over Thorin and his companions. He didn’t look too pleased to see them.

“Gandalf,” Beorn said in a deep bass. “Who have you brought to my doorstep?”

“Some old friends,” Gandalf said easily. “We’re on our way to Las Vegas when we were attacked by Azog and his gang. We simply need a few days to recover and we’ll be out of your hair.”

“And why should I help?”

“This is Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf said, gesturing to Thorin behind him. “Heir to a Las Vegas fortune that will destroy Saul Fischer.”

At the mention of Saul Fischer, Beorn’s face hardened immediately. “The Tyrant of the West.”

“The very same,” Gandalf said. “Will you aid us?”

Beorn stalked closer to them. Thorin couldn’t tell if Beorn was actually larger than everyone in the heist crew or if he just exuded that kind of aura. He looked down on the crew with an unreadable face. Thorin noticed the ax was still in Beorn’s hands.

“I don’t like you corporate people,” he said slowly. “You are greedy and look down on others. You take advantage of your laborers and care not for the growing things in the world.”

Thorin spared a glance for Dwalin, knowing how protective he was. Sure enough, Dwalin’s face was twisted into a scowl and his fingers were dangerously close to his gun.

“But I hate Saul Fischer even more,” Beorn said. “Come inside and we’ll get you prepared to leave.”

Thorin let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. He gestured for the team to follow and they walked into Beorn’s cabin.

The cabin was beautiful inside. Bilbo, having never seen an actual log cabin except in old American pioneer films, thought it looked exactly how it should. Everything inside was made with wood, shined to a mirror finish. There were pictures of landscapes on the walls and stuffed animal heads.

Once inside, Beorn led most of the team to the upper level to the spare bedrooms and such. Thorin raised his foot to go up the stairs and stopped with a sharp gasp, bringing one hand to his chest. Well, Bilbo thought, that wouldn’t do at all.

“Come with me,” Bilbo said, grabbing Thorin’s arm and leading him away from the stairs.

“But Beorn – ”

“Is probably busy dealing with the others,” Bilbo said easily. “Come along now.”

Surprisingly, Thorin went along easily and he allowed Bilbo to steer him through a doorway and into a kitchen. Bilbo pushed Thorin into a chair and turned to the sink. He found a towel in a drawer and dampened it.

“Take off your shirt,” Bilbo said, wringing out the towel and turning back to Thorin.

“So forward,” Thorin grinned, but he took his shirt off all the same.

“Your ribs are probably bruised,” Bilbo said in a deadpan voice. “I need to make sure they aren’t broken.”

“I wasn’t aware you knew any medicine.”

Bilbo let out a soft laugh. “My mother was a nurse. I never got into medicine, not like her, but I learned a few things.” Bilbo pressed the damp towel to Thorin’s face, gently wiping the dried blood from his cheeks. “If you have broken ribs, I wouldn’t know what to do, not like Oin.”

“You’re full of surprises,” Thorin said softly.

Bilbo looked down at Thorin’s chest and he winced at the sight. There were dark purple bruises the shape of Azog’s fists across Thorin’s chest. Some places were so dark they looked black. Despite the colorful canvas of Thorin’s chest, it was _very_ attractive and it took much of Bilbo’s concentration to not stare slack jawed at Thorin.

Instead, Bilbo ran his hand down Thorin’s chest, gently probing at the worst of the bruises. They were certainly bruised and Thorin sucked in a sharp breath at Bilbo’s questioning fingers. It was unlikely that any of his ribs were broken but Thorin would have to take it easy all the same.

“You could have died,” Bilbo whispered as his hand stopped over Thorin’s heart.

“Not with you around,” Thorin looked up Bilbo with bright blue eyes. “You saved my life, Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin’s hand, rough and weatherworn, circled around Bilbo’s. “Thank you. You have saved me and my men time and time again. I fear even a portion of my wealth will not be enough to pay you all you have done.”

Bilbo blushed. “Oh, what nonsense. I said I would help, Thorin, and that is what I plan to do. No matter what.”

Thorin’s eyes were so blue Bilbo couldn’t look away. His heart pounded in his chest and whatever crush was building inside him grew into a fire. Bilbo was suddenly aware of how close they were to each other, hands clasped over Thorin’s chest.

The moment seemed to almost stretch forever. Bilbo wanted to break the spell, whether that was leaning forward and kissing Thorin Oakenshield or pulling back and pretending this tender moment never happened.

“Bilbo,” Thorin said in a voice so soft Bilbo almost didn’t hear it.

“Yes, Thorin?”

Was Bilbo imagining it or did Thorin’s eyes grow darker? His own breathing shortened and he couldn’t look away from Thorin’s eyes. He felt Thorin’s heartbeat beneath his hand, a firm and strong heartbeat, one that was almost gone.

Thorin opened his mouth to say something but, before he could, a loud voice boomed through the cabin.

“Thorin!”

Dwalin walked into the kitchen, face determined and a neat, fresh bandage around his hand. His eyes widened a little at the sight of Thorin and Bilbo, then his face shifted to one of pure mischief and delight.

“Oh, sorry,” Dwalin said in the least sorry voice Bilbo had ever heard. “Ori and I have a plan on how we can make to Las Vegas and we thought you’d like to hear it. But I understand if you’re too busy…” Dwalin trailed off suggestively.

“No, we’re not busy,” Bilbo shook his head and took two steps back from Thorin. His face was flaming with embarrassment. “I’ll just leave you to it then.”

With an awkward wave, Bilbo stumbled out of the kitchen and up the stairs. The second floor was were most of the heist team would be staying, with Fili and Kili laying claim on the third floor loft as their own. Down the hallway was a large bathroom, with a Jacuzzi style tub and giant mirror with a two sink counter.

Most of the team was gathered in the bathroom. Fili and Kili, who were hardly injured, had already gone up to the loft for bed. Ori was, presumably, downstairs with Dwalin to talk with Thorin. Balin and Dori, whose injuries were fairly superficial, had gone into town for supplies. The rest, however, were scattered in the bathroom with Oin and his medicine chest opened on the counter.

“Ah, Bilbo! Perfect timing!” Oin grinned with delight and grabbed Bilbo. “I need help with some of the stitches here.”

Bilbo let Oin drag him into the bathroom. Sitting on a chair was Bofur, his arm laid out on the counter. He had a huge slice up his forearm that was clotted and matted with blood. There was a pile of bloody rags on the counter and, sitting next to Bofur on the floor, was Nori. His wrist was in a tight splint and he was holding onto Bofur’s free hand.

“Looks worse than it is,” Bofur said with a weak smile and Nori shook his head.

“It looks terrible,” Bilbo said. He turned to Oin, “What do you need me to do?”

Oin handed him a damp rag. “Keep the area clean. Chances are, it’s gonna bleed like a bitch when I start stitching it together and that’s gonna make my job more difficult. You’re not squeamish, are you?”

“He did faint in Nebraska,” Gloin piped up. “Couldn’t stand the cannibals’ cupboard.”

“That is different and you know it,” Bilbo protested, insulted that Gloin would think seeing severed limbs and entrails could compare to stitching up a cut. Even if it was quite a large cut.

Just as Oin predicted, as soon as he started stitching, pulling on the skin and wiping away the matted blood, Bofur’s arm started to bleed again. Bilbo dutifully kept the wound clear and Bofur only whimpered a few times during the whole ordeal. Soon enough, his arm was stitched and wrapped up in clean gauze.

“You’re all done,” Oin said, patting the bandage a few times.

With Oin’s approval, Bofur and Nori left the bathroom hand in hand, with strict instructions to not tear open Bofur’s stitches or put undue strain on Nori’s wrist. The rest only had superficial cuts and bruises but Oin insisted on making sure everyone was at 100% before sending them off to bed.

“How is Thorin?” Oin asked as he and Bilbo washed their hands.

“He’ll live,” Bilbo said. “His ribs are bruised, no question, but I don’t think any are broken.”

“He’ll have to be careful when we get to Vegas,” Oin said. “It’ll only take a few more blows to the chest to break those ribs and we don’t want to risk a punctured lung.”

“I’ll keep him in line,” Bilbo said confidently.

Oin laughed. “If anyone can keep Thorin from doing anything stupid, it _would_ be you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this fic is taking SO LONG. I am drowning in writer's block so the chapters might be a little bit shorter than the last part. And totally sporadic.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Ori spread out his laptop and notebooks over the kitchen table. Thorin, shirt back on, stood next to Dwalin as they looked over Ori’s shoulder. Here was someone else that had surprised Thorin. Little Ori, the youngest of his brothers, both of whom were capable criminals, who had never known a life of crime or danger, yet here he was, giving Thorin and Dwalin all the information they needed to pull of this heist.

Judging from Dwalin’s gaze, Thorin wasn’t the only one impressed.

“As soon as we’re in the city, I can have full access to Saul’s casinos,” Ori explained. “We can scout out the building, I can hack into the camera feed, and we can put Bofur’s plan into action.”

“How long will it take?” Thorin asked.

“No more than two days,” Ori assured him as he pulled up a map. “The second day will be the difficult one, driving through the desert with no place to rest. We’ll need to make sure we’re fully stocked before leaving St. Geroge.”

“And once we’re in Vegas,” Thorin said.

“It’s on,” Dwalin nodded. “It’s as much our home as it is Saul’s.”

“We need to leave soon,” Thorin said. “Tomorrow evening at least.”

“No!” Bilbo’s voice carried through the kitchen. He looked affronted as he stormed up to Thorin. “Your team is injured, Thorin. All of them! They need to rest. _You_ need to rest! Those ribs aren’t going to get any better if you keep pushing yourself.”

“But – ”

“No buts! You heard Ori – we’re making good time. You’ll be no use to us half dead, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin groaned. “Fine, fine. Ori, how long can we stay without losing time?”

“Three days,” Ori said promptly.

“Then three days it is,” Thorin agreed. “Go on, get some sleep.”

Dwalin took Ori by the arm and escorted him from the kitchen, both of them talking softly. No doubt they would be meeting up with Bofur and Nori to clean up the details for the heist. Thorin yawned and stretched his arms only to yank them back down at the searing pain across his chest at the movement.

“Does it hurt?” Bilbo asked softly.

Thorin started. He had forgotten that Bilbo was here. “Uh, not that much,” he lied. “Shouldn’t you be heading up to bed?”

“There’s no more room upstairs,” Bilbo shrugged. “Beorn said there was a spare room down here and I had hoped you wouldn’t mind sharing with me.”

“Oh, not at all,” Thorin said, a little taken aback. “Uh, come on then.”

Tucked down a small hallway by the kitchen was a large master bedroom with attached bathroom. The idea of sleeping in a comfortable bed had Thorin almost melting against the door as he pushed it open.

The bedroom was fully furnished with two small tables on either side of the large bed. There was a cushy armchair in the corner and a thick rug on the floor. The door to the bathroom was opened and Thorin could see a clean, white counter top.

“Just one bed, then?” Bilbo said, tucking himself underneath of Thorin’s arm. “Best you take it. I can sleep in the chair.”

“Nonsense,” Thorin shook his head in protest. “If you sleep in that chair you’ll be sore in the morning and I can’t allow it.”

“You are injured, you must take the bed. I insist,” Bilbo said. “I’m going to take a shower and you better be in that bed by the time I come out.”

Thorin’s mind went instantly to a freshly showered Bilbo stepping out of the bathroom, with pink skin and damp hair. He was so flustered at the idea that he didn’t have a chance to argue with Bilbo before the bathroom door shut.

The sound of the shower started and Thorin, desperate to keep his mind off the very naked Bilbo that was only a door away, raided through the closet and dresser. He wasn’t expecting much in either of them, but curiosity and desperation pushed him.

The closet had a few extra blankets and pillows and several empty hangers. Inside the dresser, however, were a couple sets of pajamas. Maybe Beorn had played host to runaways before if he had extra clothes in the bedrooms.

Thorin picked up a pair and knocked on the bathroom door. When there was no answer, he opened the door a crack.

“Bilbo? I found some clothes for you.”

“Just set them on the counter, please,” Bilbo replied.

Thorin pushed open the door and set the clothes on the counter, just like Bilbo asked. He glanced up at the mirror and saw the reflection of the shower. The shower had a frosted door and steam was rapidly fogging up the mirror but Thorin could still see the abstract outline of Bilbo’s body.

Choking, Thorin backed out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut a little harder than necessary. He took out another set of pajamas and quickly changed into them. They were rough on his skin and weren’t long enough in the sleeves, but they were clean.

Thorin yawned and stumbled over his discarded clothes. He looked at the armchair, tempted to sleep in the chair and force Bilbo onto the bed, but he had a feeling if he did that then Bilbo would only wake him up and force him to take the bed. Thorin turned to the bed, a full king with pillows and thick blankets. It _did_ look comfy.

It wouldn’t hurt to just lay down on the bed, at least until Bilbo was done. Maybe after a hot shower Bilbo would be more inclined to listen to Thorin and take the bed.

Thorin pushed back the blankets and fell onto the bed. The springs squeaked a little but it was the most comfortable thing Thorin had slept on in weeks. All his muscles relaxed but his chest still ached with each deep breath he took.

He closed his eyes and let himself sink into the mattress.

When he opened his eyes, the shower was off. He could hear Bilbo humming along gently to some melody. The bathroom door opened and, in a billow of steam, out stepped Bilbo. It was just as Thorin imagined, damp hair curling around his ears and face flushed pink. Backlit by the bathroom, with Thorin’s hazy gaze, Bilbo looked almost like he was glowing.

“Bilbo.”

“Go back to sleep, Thorin,” Bilbo said softly. “It’s late.”

“Don’t sleep in the chair,” Thorin mumbled, still half asleep. “Bed’s big enough.”

“Go to sleep, Thorin,” Bilbo pulled the blanket up and around Thorin’s shoulders. “You need your rest if you want to heal.”

“Just… stay,” Thorin mumbled before rolling over and falling back to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, this is an update?
> 
> Sorry for the LONG delay. As I said, this will be a slow going fic but I still have high hopes to finish it. I've been busy with some of my own original work, including a new website, and other real life stuff.
> 
> Thanks for your patience, my dear readers.

Beorn was a gracious host, if a bit rough around the edges at times. He offered his own truck for Balin and Dori to head into town to buy supplies. He kept them fed and warm and allowed the team to use his cabin as if it were their own.

Bofur had planned to spend their three day retreat locked away with Nori and enjoying every minute they had together. They had wasted so much time and, with not much time left before heading to Vegas, Bofur didn’t want to waste any more.

However, on their second day, Bofur was rudely woken up by a banging on the door.

“Go away!” Nori shouted, a little muffled from where he had buried his face into Bofur’s shoulder.

“We need to talk with Bofur,” Dwalin’s deep voice rumbled through. “You can sleep in.”

Nori whined and curled up closer to Bofur, wrapping both his arms and his legs around Bofur’s body, as if he could keep him in bed by sheer will alone. As much as Bofur wanted to stay in bed, to cuddle with Nori while he still had the chance, he knew there was still a heist at large and there was still Saul Fischer and Azog to fight.

He never expected to be helping lead the heist. He had assumed that, since Balin and Dwalin gathered everyone, that they would be leading. But a good leader knew when to rely on others. Sure, Balin and Dwalin were ex-military with an impressive skill set and there was no better lockpick than Nori, but no one on this team had Bofur’s history against high value targets.

“Don’t go,” Nori mumbled. “He can wait.”

“You know he’ll break down the door,” Bofur said.

“Don’t care.”

“Nori…”

“Just… five more minutes.”

Bofur shook his head, kissed Nori gently, and climbed out of the bed, peeling off Nori’s limbs one by one. Looking at him like this, it was hard to believe that Nori was a very dangerous man. Hair splayed out over the pillow, arms reaching for Bofur, Nori looked nothing like the type of man who could kill without remorse.

Ah, hell, Bofur was going soft. Although, Bofur thought as he slid into his clothes, he’d been soft for Nori since they first met.

Waiting on the other side of the door, was Dwalin and, to Bofur’s surprise, Ori. They looked as if they’d been deep in conversation before Bofur opened the door, both of them snapping their heads to Bofur with surprise.

“Well? Here I am,” Bofur said. “What’s up?”

Dwalin and Ori ushered Bofur downstairs, Ori chatting his ear off the entire time. After they left Beorn’s, the plan was to drive down the interstate, make a stop at Cedar City, before taking the final, long drive to Las Vegas. From there, it was out of Ori’s hands and into Bofur’s.

Downstairs, the rest of the heist team was scattered around. Thorin and Bilbo were at the kitchen table, Bilbo still munching on some breakfast while Thorin scribbled on a sheet of paper. Oin and Gloin were in the living room, telling stories to a wide-eyed Fili and Kili. Dori, Bombur and Bifur sat in a corner, inspecting their weapons and counting what remained of their ammo.

Dwalin pushed Bofur and Ori to the kitchen table where Bofur immediately stole a piece of Bilbo’s toast. Bilbo glared, but his face was so innocent that Bofur didn’t really take it to heart.

“Alright lads, what’s the plan?”

“We were hoping you might have one,” Thorin said. He spun the paper around to face Bofur. It was a map of the Firedrake Casino and Thorin had drawn in the hidden door to the side. “You said we make a ruckus, distract the guards, then go in from the side. Will that still hold up?”

“Don’t see why not,” Bofur shrugged. “I know that Azog’s a bit of a wrench in the plans, but that doesn’t mean we give up. We go in, get the fortune, kill Saul if we’re lucky, and then move on our merry way. Besides, we probably lost Azog after landing in the forest.”

“Is it really so simple?” Thorin asked.

“In my experience, simple is better,” Bofur said and stole another slice of toast. Bilbo took his plate and moved to the other side of Thorin. “If we get too complicated then there’s that much more of a chance for failure.”

“The most important thing right now is to get to Las Vegas,” Ori said. “Things might be different now than what you remember. We can have better schematics, a more definite plan, but that can’t happen until we get to the city. We just need to focus on that.”

“Ori’s right,” Bilbo said. “One step at a time, Thorin. You’ll have your treasure back. In the meantime, we’ve got a couple more days before we’re trapped in a car together again.”

“Time to practice your shooting!” Gloin shouted from the living room.

“I did just fine!” Bilbo protested.

“Couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn,” Dwalin added.

Bilbo huffed and took his now empty plate to the kitchen to the laughter of the heist crew. Nori walked past Bilbo, still yawning, and sat down next to Bofur, pressing his face against Bofur’s shoulder. Bofur reached down and gently squeezed Nori’s thigh.

Gloin and Dwalin caught up to Bilbo in the kitchen, insistent on teaching him a few more things. Ori instantly hopped up beside Dwalin, eager to have his own shooting lesson. Dori was on that like a hawk, hovering over Ori and glaring up at Dwalin. Against Bilbo’s protest, Dwalin and Gloin pushed him towards the door, Ori and Dori following.

“Do you wanna watch the show?” Bofur whispered to Nori, gesturing to the group walking out the backdoor, guns in hand. He laughed softly as Bifur followed them. It was cute, almost, how insistent Bifur was to properly train Bilbo.

Nori took Bofur’s hand and slid it up his leg. “I’d rather be doing something else.”

Bofur grinned and squeezed Nori’s leg. “Let’s go.”

Ori tried not to grin too brightly as Dwalin held out a gun for him, ignoring Dori’s disapproving glares. Ori had been interested in Dwalin since New York City, when Ori first showed off his hacking skills. Dwalin had given Ori a soft smile, an almost proud and surprised look, and Ori was lost immediately.

Of course, Ori wasn’t stupid. He knew he couldn’t just jump Dwalin at the first chance he got, that would be reckless. There was no knowing if Dwalin was interested and, as always, there was the Dori issue to consider. Ori starting something with Dwalin, arguably one of the most dangerous men on the heist, was certain to send Dori into a fit.

Not to mention they were in the middle of a dangerous heist and starting something would be extremely distracting to their actual purpose. That didn’t mean, however, that Ori wasn’t about to try something.

Maybe when the heist was over it could go somewhere.

The gun was heavy in Ori’s hand and he followed Dwalin’s instructions perfectly. Nori had taught him the basics of how to handle a gun, right underneath of Dori’s nose, and Ori handled the pistol comfortably, taking aim and firing three quick shots at the target.

They weren’t perfect but it was better than Bilbo’s pitiful attempts beside him.

The shocked silence almost had Ori preening. He was much more than just a small time hacker and little brother. Ori was capable and strong and much more than his brothers ever thought of him.

“Good work,” Dwalin said, putting a warm hand on Ori’s shoulder. “You could be a sharpshooter if you wanted.”

“Absolutely not!” Dori shouted.

Ori groaned as Dori descended on the two of them, almost tearing Dwalin away. He started ranting about Ori’s safety and how he shouldn’t be anywhere near any guns. Dwalin pulled back, arms raised in surrender. Ignoring Dori’s rant, one of Ori’s many talents, he pressed the gun back into Dwalin’s hands.

“Maybe next time,” he said coyly.

Dori huffed and dragged Ori back to the house. Ori went willingly but threw Dwalin a grin over his shoulder and, quite brazenly, a wink. The look on Dwalin’s face, pleased but surprised, made all of Dori’s ranting worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a real chapter baby! Thanks, always, for your endless patience!

Thorin, with his bruised ribs, was forbidden from anything too strenuous during the next three days. He, instead, spent his days watching the rest of the heist team work hard to prepare for the long drive to Las Vegas. The fight in Colorado solidified the team, taught them how to fight together, to rely on each other. They took turns traveling to the city for supplies, going during the busiest times of day to avoid suspicion.

The best part about watching his team prepare for the heist, however, was watching Ori constantly flirt with Dwalin, often right underneath of Dori’s nose. It was subtle flirting, a lingering touch or a significant look, but each one left Dwalin staring after Ori with barely veiled interest.

“You should say something to him,” Thorin told Dwalin during lunch on their second day. Ori was across the living room, talking with Bofur and Nori, and Dwalin couldn’t keep his eyes off him.

“Too dangerous,” Dwalin shook his head.

“I’m sure Dori will come around.”

“I mean the heist is too dangerous,” Dwalin said. “You see how Bofur and Nori are. They’ve almost died to keep each other safe before, threw the whole heist out the window for each other. I don’t want that to happen with Ori and myself. Not until after your fortune is secure. But enough about that,” Dwalin grinned wickedly. “What about Bilbo?”

Thorin coughed into his drink. “What about him?”

“I’ve seen the room you two are sharing. One bed, attached bathroom, it’s practically domestic.”

Thorin didn’t say anything but his eyes were immediately drawn to Bilbo, reading quietly in the corner of the living room, a peaceful man from London who was stronger than Thorin ever expected. It had been nice, more than nice, to wake up and hear Bilbo in the bathroom, still warm and drowsy and imagine a domestic future with him.

“It’s too dangerous,” Thorin said softly. “But maybe after…”

Dwalin nodded. “After.”

Bofur managed to corner Bilbo by taking him outside under the ruse of ‘target practice’ when he had no intention of teaching Bilbo how to shoot at all. Instead, Bofur was looking for gossip, one of his many favorite things. He wasn’t blind, even if he pretended to be distracted by Nori (or was actually distracted), Bofur still saw everything. He saw Ori’s increasingly bold flirtations with Dwalin, if he wasn’t careful Dori would start to catch on.

More importantly, however, Bofur noticed the connection that seemed to blossom between Bilbo and Thorin ever since the landed in Utah. Sharing a room wasn’t helping matters either. Bofur honestly couldn’t tell if Thorin was aware of how he stared after their burglar, with barely hidden longing, or if he thought he was being subtle.

Either way, Bofur was getting answers.

It was a gorgeous day outside of Beorn’s cabin, the hot August sun bright overhead, turning the trees emerald green in the light against the rolling mountains. The smell of pine needles was thick in the air and all around were the sound of crickets and the rushing of a river. It had been so long since Bofur had been in the American West and he didn’t realize how much he missed the deep pine forests of the Rocky Mountains.

“It’s so different here,” Bilbo said as he and Bofur walked down to the river. “The trees and mountains… I almost miss the open fields in Nebraska.”

Bofur laughed. “It is very different. Hard to believe it’s the same country sometimes, eh?”

Bilbo turned to Bofur suddenly, his blue eyes flashing sharply. “Why did you bring me here? It wasn’t just for the scenery, was it?”

“So doubtful!” Bofur put a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “Don’t you trust me?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s to _not_ trust you.”

“At least you’ve learned something,” Bofur laughed again. “Alright, alright. The truth is, I’ve got to know what’s going on with you and Thorin.”

“There’s nothing,” Bilbo coughed awkwardly, looking towards the river. “Nothing’s happening between us.”

“So I’m imaging that more-than-friendly hug Thorin gave you when we landed,” Bofur said. “Or the fact that you two are sharing a bed right now and that he can hardly keep his eyes off you?”

Bilbo let out the sound of a dying cat and Bofur’s grin widened. Checkmate, Bilbo Baggins.

“Him… keep his eyes off… me?” Bilbo spluttered. “You… no you’re wrong. There’s no way he would… he couldn’t possibly…”

Bofur stopped Bilbo, putting a hand on his shoulder. “He’s interested, Bilbo, just trust me on this.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to trust you?” Bilbo asked sharply, but his eyes were soft so Bofur didn’t take it too personally.

“I’m a conman, Bilbo. It’s practically my job to know when someone is interested in someone else. The best cons come from love affairs after all. And if that’s not enough, Nori has a standing wager that the two of you hook up before we reach Vegas and it’s in _my_ best interested that Nori wins that bet.”

Bilbo still looked unsure, staring down at the river. Bofur leaned in closer, resting his elbow on Bilbo’s shoulder.

“And, to be honest, a good shagging would do Thorin good. He needs to loosen up.”

Bilbo let out another strange sound and, before Bofur could do anything, Bilbo had slipped in the mud on the river bank and slipped right into the water.

Thankfully, the edge of the river had a slow current and was quite shallow. Bilbo’s curly head poked out over the water with an almighty gasp. Despite himself, Bofur burst into laughter at seeing Bilbo half in the river looking like a drowned rat.

A small, wet hand caught Bofur’s ankle and pulled him down into the river. Bofur’s scream was cut off by the cold water engulfing his head. His chest felt compressed by the icy water and he forced himself above water, gasping for air.

“Serves you right!” Bilbo scolded though he was laughing. “God, why is the water so cold? It’s bloody August!”

“Mountain runoff,” Bofur said. “It’s not so bad. Once you get used to it.”

They were still dripping wet by the time they made it back to the cabin. Balin, sitting out on the back patio cleaning his gun, looked over them with a critical eye.

“Good target practice?” he said knowingly.

Bilbo turned bright red and squelched into the cabin not looking back. Balin turned his critical eye on Bofur. A man less seasoned to Balin’s intense older sibling stare would have caved, but not Bofur.

“Care to change the wager?” Bofur asked, leaning up against the patio pillar.

“You can’t meddle in their affairs or else the bet is void,” Balin said.

“But I didn’t bet,” Bofur wiggled his eyebrows. “Remember?”

“Helping your partner win the bet is just the same,” Balin said, hands swiftly putting the gun back together.

“I didn’t _do_ anything,” Bofur hedged. “Just… gave Bilbo a little nudge.”

Balin clicked the final piece of his gun in place and Bofur suddenly remembered exactly what Balin was capable of. This was a man who was once a soldier, who killed men without mercy and, when he left the army, turned into a hitman for hire. Balin could easily kill Bofur right here without a shred of mercy or regret.

His fear must’ve been clear on his face because Balin only let out a soft chuckle.

“Don’t worry, lad, I won’t kill you,” Balin said. “Just remember that if your Nori wins the bet.”

Bofur nodded numbly and scrambled into the house, slipping on the floor as he went.

Dori sat up in his room, checking his watch every few seconds. He was sharing a room with Ori and Dwalin, it was just how the rooms aligned but Dori wouldn’t have it any other way. He was no fool, he saw the looks between Ori and Dwalin and he’d do everything in his power to make sure they weren’t left alone.

Except now it was nearing midnight and everyone had already gone to bed. Even Bilbo and Thorin had gone to bed, a strange dance between the two to try not to go to bed together, which failed utterly. Dori watched everyone else trickled off to bed, Fili and Kili racing upstairs to the loft, Balin and Oin and Gloin stumbling off to bed one by one, Bifur and Bombur saying goodnight as they passed Dori to their own room.

But there was still no sign of Dwalin and Ori. As much as Dori wanted to hope they weren’t together, he knew better than to get his hopes up. Ori was stubborn and brave, never afraid to take risks to get what he wanted. There was never a challenge too big for Ori and, apparently, that included flirting with dangerous men. As for Dwalin, he always had a weakness for cute things and there weren’t many things cuter than Ori. Perhaps Dori was biased in that manner, Ori was his baby brother after all.

This wasn’t to say Dori was against Dwalin and Ori getting together, on the contrary, Dori thought they’d be a well-matched couple. He was more concerned that they were simply seeking comfort with each other because of the inherent dangers of the heist and they were simply using each other or, even worse, they would rush through their relationship and elope in Vegas for fear one of them might die.

If Dwalin and Ori were going to start a relationship then they would do it correctly. Dori taught Ori much better than that.

Dori left the room intent on finding where the two were hiding, just to make sure they weren’t doing anything stupid, like Bofur and Bilbo did that afternoon. Falling into a river, even in the middle of August, was foolish and risky.

Dori barely made it to the edge of the steps when he heard talking from downstairs. He crept to the stairs and looked down to the first floor. Sitting in the living room was Dwalin and Ori with a perfectly respectable distance between the two. Ori had his laptop open on the coffee table in front of them and was holding a pillow on his lap.

“It’s a terrible movie,” Dwalin snorted.

“It’s one of Nori’s favorites,” Ori said. “I grew up watching it.”

“That actually explains a lot. Nori’s always had shitty taste in things.”

“That’s not true!”

“Name one good thing that Nori likes.”

“Bofur,” Ori said without hesitation.

“That doesn’t count,” Dwalin threw his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers close to Ori’s shoulder. “Love doesn’t make sense. Name something else.”

Ori hummed and leaned backwards, perhaps a little closer to Dwalin than before. Dori had to admit that Dwalin had a point. Nori had _terrible_ taste in just about everything. His clothing was tacky and his music taste was atrocious, say nothing about Nori’s choice of food. Other than Bofur, there wasn’t any good thing that Nori really cared for.

“What about me?” Ori blinked up at Dwalin innocently.

Dori almost gasped at Ori’s brashness. When did his little brother grow so bold? Despite Dori’s best efforts to keep Ori protected, he had become a key player in the heist. Perhaps it was time for Dori to let his little brother go. But, as Ori’s older brother, he had to make sure Ori and Dwalin didn’t get up to anything in the middle of the night, alone, in the living room.

Dwalin shifted his arm until it was fully around Ori’s shoulders, drawing him in a little closer. Ori blinked slowly, still staring up at Dwalin with wide eyes.

“Am I a good thing?” he asked softly.

Dwalin’s spare hand reached over and gently touched Ori’s chin, lifting his face up.

“Yes,” Dwalin said softly. “A very good thing.”

They met in the middle in a soft kiss and Dori smiled to himself when Dwalin pulled away, only to tuck Ori underneath his arm, like a perfect gentleman.

Quietly, Dori snuck back to his bedroom. He doubted Dwalin or Ori would come up to their room for the night.

Bombur was delighted at having a full kitchen to work with. He knew it wouldn’t last, they would be leaving in a few short days and it would be back to fast food and diners, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to enjoy every last minute of this kitchen while he had the chance. It was almost a sense of normality for Bombur in the middle of the heist, to sit down and prepare a dinner for his friends and family. It kept his mind off things like getting shot at and worrying if he was going to make it home to his wife and kids.

It also gave him the chance to talk with Bilbo. They had bonded on the flight to America over good food and Bombur was pleased to find out that Bilbo was quite an accomplished cook and was more than willing to cook with Bombur.

“Tell me how you met your wife again,” Bilbo said as they chopped the vegetables for stir fry.

“She came to visit me while I was working at a bakery,” Bombur said easily. “I remember that first day so well, like something out of a fairy tale. It was spring in France, flowers blooming and a cool breeze in the air, and she came into the shop looking like a vision. Her hair was shorter then, but she knew exactly what she wanted, hardly spared a glance for me.”

“And she ended up marrying you?”

“She kept coming back,” Bombur said. “And we started talking. Just a little bit at a time. I had no idea she was interested in me until she asked me out.”

“And… how long was she interested in you?”

“You mean how long she kept it a secret?” Bombur guessed. “Since we first met, apparently. My Mirra is not good with her emotions. Oh, she’s a darling, to be sure, dotes on our children well and helps run the business, but when we first met? She could barely string two words together. She’s headstrong and courageous and I am so lucky she chose me.”

Bilbo was silent as he continued to chop the vegetables. Bombur recognized the look on his face though. He saw it when Bofur first met Nori, he saw it when his oldest son brought his best friend over for dinner, he saw it earlier today when Dwalin looked at Ori. Bombur had no doubt exactly who was on Bilbo’s mind.

“Thorin’s a thickheaded fool,” Bombur said, pouring some oil into the skillet. “He’s got a single mindedness that sometimes keeps him from noticing things right under his nose. It makes him a great businessman, focusing on the larger pictures, but he sometimes needs help to notice the little things.”

“What if I’m imagining it?” Bilbo asked as he tossed the vegetables into the sizzling oil. “He was one of the most powerful men in Vegas, what would he see in me?”

“It doesn’t matter what he sees in you, Bilbo. The point is that he does see something in you. Are you going to waste that chance because of your doubts?”

Bilbo hummed thoughtfully as he stirred the vegetables. Bombur hit the pressure release on the rice and the squealing hiss of the escaping pressure drowned out all other sounds.

Thorin gathered his team together on their last night in Beorn’s house. Beorn, who had been mostly absent while the team had the run of the house, reappeared with Gandalf. Either Thorin had forgotten just how large Beorn was, or the man had grown during his absence.

“You leave tomorrow,” Beorn said, not as a demand or question, simply a statement of fact. “I have a car for you and the rest of your supplies. But there is troubling news.”

“Azog is coming closer to town,” Gandalf said. “He doesn’t yet know where we are and we must keep it that way. Prepare everything tonight. You must leave at first light.”

“Are you not coming with us?” Bilbo asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Gandalf said sadly. “There’s an urgent matter I must attend do, Council duty, you understand. I have no doubt you will be fine without me.”

“We’ve done well so far,” Thorin said. “Even with Azog hunting us, we’ve made it this far. Las Vegas is only a few days away and soon, we’ll have my fortune reclaimed and Saul Fischer dethroned. I am proud to have each of you on my side and I know we’ll be victorious. Everyone get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow we’re back on the road.”

The heist team dispersed, talking to themselves as they headed upstairs to their bedrooms. Gandalf and Beorn stepped outside to the backyard, whispering softly about Azog and his second in command. Thorin half wanted to listen in on that conversation but the other half of him was caught up in watching Bilbo waiting for him outside their bedroom.

And Thorin didn’t dwell on the idea of calling it ‘their’ room for too long, just stood up and followed Bilbo. It would likely be the last time they shared a bed and Thorin couldn’t deny that he was going to miss it the most when they left.

Once inside the room, Bilbo pushed the door shut behind Thorin. The action put Thorin’s back against the closed door, Bilbo pressed in front of him. The only light was from the lamp on the bedside table and it bathed the entire room in a soft, dim glow. Bilbo looked up at Thorin from beneath his eyelashes.

“The last night before we leave?” Bilbo said softly. His hands were around Thorin’s shoulders, fingers pressing against the back of Thorin’s neck. “The last night before we have to share motel rooms with everyone else, before we’re back to running for our lives, before – ”

But whatever else Bilbo wanted to say was cut off as he pulled Thorin down to kiss him. Thorin’s hands immediately grabbed Bilbo’s waist, pulling him closer and closer. Bilbo sighed into the kiss and opened his mouth to Thorin’s warm lips. Thorin growled, deep in his throat, as their kisses grew heated and his hands trailed up and down Bilbo’s back. Bilbo shifted, sliding his leg between Thorin’s.

“Last night,” Thorin breathed across Bilbo’s kiss swollen lips.

Bilbo gave Thorin an absolute feral grin. “Last night.”

And he pulled Thorin onto the bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Thorin woke up curled around Bilbo. His alarm was blaring and Thorin groaned. Bilbo shifted in his arms, stretching languidly like cat. Thorin pressed a soft kiss to the back of Bilbo’s neck and Bilbo hummed contently.

“We need to go,” Bilbo mumbled. “They’ll get suspicious.”

“Let them,” Thorin trailed his lips up Bilbo’s neck and to his ear.

“We’ll be late.”

“We can’t be late if it’s my own heist.”

Bilbo let out a soft laugh and rolled out of Thorin’s arms. He shimmied into his clothes and Thorin watched with longing as each bit of smooth skin was hidden beneath Bilbo’s clothes. Bilbo went to the bathroom to look at his reflection and groaned. Thorin grinned proudly, knowing exactly what Bilbo saw.

“You’re lucky I wear high collars!” Bilbo called out. “You… you… vampire!”

Thorin only laughed as Bilbo huffed back into the bedroom. His button-up and sweater vest covered the bite-marks Thorin left on Bilbo’s chest and collarbones. In fact, other than his mussed hair and blushed cheeks, Bilbo looked practically presentable.

“You weren’t complaining last night,” Thorin said smugly

Bilbo gave him the most deadpan stare only to be interrupted by a loud banging on the door.

“If you lot don’t come out then I’ll come in myself!” Bofur’s voice came through the door. “Everyone else is almost ready!”

“We’ll be right out!” Bilbo called. Then, to Thorin, “If Bofur and Nori are already up then we’re definitely late.”

Thorin sat up in the bed and reached out for Bilbo. Despite Bilbo’s insistence that they needed to hurry, he obligingly walked into Thorin’s arms, letting Thorin rest his head on Bilbo’s stomach.

“Should we tell them?” Thorin asked. “About… this?”

“I’d prefer not to,” Bilbo ran his fingers through Thorin’s hair and Thorin preened under the attention. “Did you want to tell them?”

“Not yet,” Thorin said. He looked up at Bilbo with a soft smile. “You better head out before Bofur breaks in and ruins everything.”

Bilbo laughed softly. His hands cradled Thorin’s face and pulled him in for a soft, tender kiss. “I’ll keep them distracted while you get ready.”

And he was gone, out of Thorin’s arms and outside the bedroom, greeting Bofur warmly.

St. George was about two hours away from Richfield, hardly the longest drive they’d taken. After that, it was only another two hours to Las Vegas. They could easily make the trip in one day, but with low funds and a car only somewhat full of gas, they would need to take a break in St. George to replenish their cash.

After three days in a large cabin on the edge of the woods, it was jarring for the team to be crammed back into a vehicle on the open road. Dwalin and Ori took the front seat, Dwalin driving and Ori navigating, and the rest were stuffed like sardines in the other seats. Dori immediately laid claim to the seat directly behind the driver, glaring between Dwalin and Ori even though they were perfectly professional.

Fili and Kili, claiming they missed their time with Bilbo, took him to the farthest backseat and refused to let anyone else switch seats with them. Bofur and Nori were treading line of PDA in the middle seats, but with Dori’s attention on Ori, no one bothered to call them out on it.

An hour into the drive, they were about to exit into Cedar City for a brief rest. They would make it to St. George in good time and everyone’s patience was waning, so Dwalin made the decision to pull off into Cedar City and let everyone out of the car to stretch their legs and maybe look for lunch. Ori directed him to a nearby park and, as soon as he pulled in, the team burst out of the van and into the fresh air.

It was barely noon but somehow it felt like hours had passed. Bilbo started to crawl out of the very backseat when Ori grabbed him. Everyone else had already sprawled out on the grass or started walking around the park and Bilbo wanted to join them, but something about Ori’s face convinced him to stay.

“We’re not going to make it,” Ori said softly. “Nori stole as much as he could before we left Beorn’s, but that will only be enough for us to buy food today. We don’t have enough gas to get to St. George or the money for it. The Imps back at Grand Junction stole everything.”

“Why are you telling me this and not Thorin?” Bilbo asked.

“Bofur’s worried Thorin will start up a credit card trail,” Ori said. “Azog knows we’re in Utah which means Fischer knows we’re one state away from him. Any slip up, any sign of where we are, and Azog will be on us in an instant and it’s game over.”

“And you’re telling me because…?”

“Because you can tell Thorin and he won’t lose his temper,” Ori said. “I don’t know what kind of money we can earn, but we can’t move on until we get at least a couple hundred.”

Bilbo sighed. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

Thorin was standing alone underneath a tree, watching the team with a vigilant eye. Bilbo tugged at his collar, fingers brushing against the hickeys on his collarbone. Swallowing the desire that threatened to rise, Bilbo walked to Thorin.

“We’re in trouble,” Thorin said as Bilbo leaned on the tree beside him. “Aren’t we?”

“How can you tell?”

“Dwalin’s more stoic than usual and Bofur’s got a nervous look in his eyes,” Thorin said. “They’ve been heading this heist, calm and confident with every twist, and now they look worried.”

Bilbo sighed and surreptitiously took Thorin’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.

“We have no more money,” Bilbo said. “Nori stole enough to buy us lunch for today, but there won’t be enough to buy gas to get us to St. George. All the money Elrond loaned us was lost in Grand Junction.”

“I could just pay for this,” Thorin muttered darkly. “Dis has always been vigilant on our family funds and I know I have enough to get us to Vegas in comfort. We shouldn’t have to worry about something as trivial as money.”

“You can’t!” Bilbo squeezed Thorin’s hand. “You heard what Bofur and Dwalin said. If you use a credit card, then Saul and Azog will track it and we may never be successful! We’re so close, Thorin.”

“I know!” Thorin snapped. “God, I know, Bilbo. I just… I don’t think we’re going to make it out of this town.”

“Now, don’t talk like that,” Bilbo nudged Thorin, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I’m sure there’s a few jobs we can do around town to earn enough money to get us to Vegas.”

Thorin looked down at Bilbo with a fond gaze. “You really think so?”

“And if that doesn’t work, I’m sure Bofur and Nori have a few tricks up their sleeves.”

“Right, of course,” Thorin nodded. “We’ll tell everyone over lunch before finding a place to sleep tonight.”

Bilbo looked over the park and, content that no one was looking their way, leaned up to press a kiss to the underside of Thorin’s jaw.

“I believe in you, Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo whispered. “We’ll make it through this, just you wait.”

Lunch was the cheap and quick and left Fili almost hungrier than before he ate. He wanted to order something else but there wasn’t enough money to spare. He let Kili eat half of his fries because he looked so sad Fili couldn’t resist. If what Thorin said was true, and this might be the last food they could buy for a while, then Fili would let his little brother steal all his fries.

“But what about tonight?” Bombur asked. “We can’t all sleep in the van.”

“There’s construction work on a new subdivision up the road,” Bofur said. “After the sun sets, we’ll sneak in and sleep in one of the unfinished houses.”

“Is that legal?” Bilbo asked.

“Is any of this legal?” Balin countered.

“We’d have to be out of there before the construction crew continues, but it’s the best option when we have no money,” Nori said.

“And dinner?” Kili asked in a small voice.

Nori and Dori shared a glance over the table.

“We’ll try and find something,” Dori promised. “Why not walk through the town, see if you can find any way to earn some money?”

Fili knew what Dori was doing. It was unlikely they would find any job that would take them on, but a walk through the town would keep Kili’s mind off of how helpless they were. Fili took his brother by the arm and dragged him out of the restaurant, leaving the rest of the team to figure out how to earn any money.

It was blazing hot outside and Fili wished he had kept his drink cup instead of throwing it away on their way out.

“Are we going to make it?” Kili asked as they walked down the street.

“Course we will,” Fili said. “If we can’t find any money, I’m sure Bofur will let Thorin use his card and we can make it to Vegas before Azog.”

Kili gave Fili a small smile and Fili counted that a victory.

Dwalin, Bofur, Dori and Nori gathered together as the rest of the team scattered across the town. Gloin had a great idea to give Oin a cardboard sign and stand on a street corner, despondent and hungry, looking for any human sympathy.

“How long do we starve before we give in?” Dori asked pointedly. “Thorin still has money. We’re only going through this to maintain our cover, so how long do we keep up the element of surprise before letting Thorin fund the heist again?”

“We have at least a week before we need to be in Las Vegas,” Dwalin said. “The money moves at the end of the month. As long as we don’t run the risk of dying, then I say we wait out the week.”

“Forget dying, what about arrest?” Dori said. “If we’re stealing for food then we can’t exactly afford to post bail.”

“Don’t get caught,” Nori shrugged. “Best case, we spend the next five days here, looking around for money, sleeping in the van in shifts, before heading off to Vegas. Worst case, none of our begging or stealing makes enough and Thorin funds the heist and we rob Saul Fischer within the next two days before he catches wind of where we are and moves the money.”

“Don’t worry too much,” Bofur said with his typical devil-may-care smile. “I’ve been running cons since I was a kid. It might take a while, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Besides, there are worse places to be stuck in than this pretty town.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll! If this fic wasn't slow going enough, I've been working on my original novel (and other original pieces) for the past several months and have been putting most of my fics on the back burner while I try to finish it.
> 
> But I'm not giving up on this! I still have plans to go all the way to the end of the third movie (although I've yet to decide if we follow the canon or move to an everyone lives AU).
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and commenting and staying with me through this!

Azog Decker growled into his third beer of the night. It had been nearly four days since Thorin and his team escaped with the aid of the damn Eagle’s Rescue and he had no word on their location. He knew where they were going, at least, which was why he was drinking in a rundown bar in some nameless town off I-70.

It was infuriating. Azog had been _so close_ to catching Thorin Oakenshield. He’d spent most of his new life (the life after Saul Fischer saved him from prison) determined to put Thorin in his place. No one dethroned Azog from his place as the top assassin – especially not some rich boy with half of Azog’s experience!

Azog slammed his beer onto the counter. He threw down a couple of bills, gave a stoic nod to the bartender, and stormed out of the bar.

It was a hot night outside with a clear sky full of stars. This far in the middle of nowhere, the stars were entirely unobstructed and Azog spent a moment looking up at the endless expanse of stars, tracing up the milky way as he thought about Thorin Oakenshield.

It was endlessly frustrating to be chasing after him, to constantly be one step behind and just when Azog thought he had Thorin in his grasps, he managed to make a miraculous escape yet again. There was only one road to Las Vegas from here and somewhere along that road, Azog would find Thorin.

His phone rang, disrupting the quiet peace of the night. Azog glanced at the caller ID and groaned.

“Hello, Fischer,” Azog sighed.

“It’s been almost a week,” Saul Fischer said in a very neutral tone. “Where is Thorin Oakenshield?”

“Somewhere in Utah,” Azog rubbed a hand down his face. “I’ll find him, I promise. Just send me some more cash, my boys and I will pick him off on the road.”

“You had your chance on the road!” Fischer shouted. “You’ve had dozens of chances and each time Oakenshield just manages to slip through your fingers! I thought you were the best in the business.”

“I am! Just give me a few more weeks, I’ll have Oakenshield killed and your fortune safe!”

“No,” Fischer’s voice went soft. “You’ve had your chance. Goodbye.”

Before Azog could make any protests, the phone call disconnected. He roared into the night sky and almost flung his phone to the ground in anger. He _was_ the best and he _could_ do this, but not without Saul Fischer’s funding. He’d have to find someone else but he couldn’t let the trail grow cold.

Azog and his boys were staying at a beaten down motel close to the bar. As he walked, he flipped through the contacts in his phone. He still had some pull in the underground community, give him a couple of days and he could find someone else to fund his hunt for Oakenshield. There were the Spiders, although they didn’t care for assassins. There was the King, before Gandalf gunned him down in the streets of Colorado.

There was one more person he could try. It would be risky, Azog knew. The Necromancer made the arrangements, not the other way around, but Azog needed the money.

At the motel, he saw his second in command standing by the bikes, carelessly smoking while eyeing up the girls that walked by. Azog had trained him personally and there was no one he trusted more to hunt down Thorin Oakenshield than Bolg. Azog reached out and Bolg obligingly gave over his cigarette.

“Bad news?” Bolg guessed.

“Fischer cut us off,” Azog replied, taking a deep inhale of smoke. “I’m going to meet with the Necromancer but I need you to keep hunting down Oakenshield.”

Bolg gave a shark-like grin. “With pleasure, boss,” he said, taking back the cigarette. “And will the Necromancer meet with you?”

“Not sure. He’s our only chance though,” Azog put a hand on Bolg’s shoulder, bringing them closer until they were almost face to face. “Do not let me down. Promise me you’ll kill Oakenshield and his pathetic crew the first chance you get.”

“I’ll bring you back his head on a platter,” Bolg said through a plume of smoke.

* * *

It was strange how such a cute, picturesque city could turn into a prison. With hardly any money, the entire heist team was trapped. It was a hot August in Utah and they were hungry and tired and it was only their second day. Bofur had taken Fili and Kili a nearby park, to stretch their legs and use the bathroom and water fountains.

“Are we ever going to make it to Vegas?” Fili asked. He and Kili were sprawled out underneath a large tree, staring up into the bright blue, cloudless sky.

“Sure,” Bofur said with false confidence. “We’re just a little down on our luck, but we’ll make it. Right now, in fact, Nori’s looking for which houses he can steal from without bringing too much suspicious on us and Dwalin’s teaching Ori how to hustle pool.”

Bofur didn’t want to tell the boys that even if Nori was successful and managed to lift a few things, it would hardly be enough, that even if Ori learned to hustle it was a dangerous gamble. Fili and Kili were so far away from home, in a situation more dangerous than they were ever supposed to handle.

“Bofur,” Kili said softly. “What if we never make it?”

“Now, don’t talk like that,” Bofur said. “You’re tired and hungry, which means you are going to assume the worst will happen. Your mind is going to play tricks on you, both of you. We need to keep a cool head. One day at a time.”

Bofur sat down next to the boys with a heavy sigh. “Y’know, this reminds me of one time – ”

“Oh, no!” Fili groaned. “Not another one of your stories, Bofur.”

“It’ll keep you distracted!” Bofur smacked Fili on the head. “Now shut up and listen.”

Bofur went on a long, rambling tale and, even though they complained the entire time, Fili and Kili were smiling and laughing by the end of it.

They were walking back to the van when they saw it. Kili noticed it first and smacked Fili on the shoulder.

“There!” he shouted. “A plasma center! That’ll give us enough money!”

Bofur looked where Kili was pointing and felt his heart soar in his chest. He and the others were prepared to spend a week, scrimping and begging for money, and here was an answer to their problems. Bofur tugged Kili in for a tight hug.

“Good eye, lad! Let’s tell the others.”

To prevent suspicion, Thorin had moved the van to a different part of town in the morning and would move it again at night. They didn’t have a place to sleep yet for the night, but with the money from the plasma center they might be able to buy a couple motel rooms. The heist team was meeting at the mall every few hours, to recount their cash, buy a little food, and find a place to rest. Bofur couldn’t wait to tell them what Kili had discovered.

Bilbo protested immediately. “I’m not going.”

“But Bilbo!”

“There are thirteen of you, more than enough to secure us money,” Bilbo said. “I hate needles and I am not going to sell my plasma. I’ll wait in the van for you lot, but I am _not_ going in there.”

“But – ”

“He’s got a point, you know,” Balin said, smoothly cutting off Kili. “With the money we’ve already scrounged up, Bilbo doesn’t have to join us. Besides, someone has to be a look out.”

“Then it’s settled!” Bofur said. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll go in, sell our plasma, and be out of here by lunchtime!”

With considerably lighter hearts, the promise of a plan and a way out, the team made plans to find somewhere to sleep for the night.


	7. Chapter 7

The plasma center was tucked between two alleyways, off the beaten path and far away from the center of Cedar City proper. The parking lot was torn up in some places, the sidewalks chipped and only a couple of cars were parked there. The building was large with wide windows, all of them covered by blinds.

“C’mon then,” Dwalin said in a surprisingly chipper voice. “Let’s do it.”

The inside was clean and well-lit but something about the atmosphere left the hair’s on Nori’s neck stand up on end. He’d never been to a plasma center before, had no idea what to expect, but he was nervous sitting in the waiting room with the others.

Nori trusted his gut, it kept him alive on more than one occasion, but he couldn’t deny that they needed this money. He picked up a pamphlet on the table, flipping through it. Most of it was for first time donors, what to expect, how the donation process went, and how much money. Nori stared at that number suspiciously. It seemed unusually high for plasma.

“Almost $100 per donation?!” he hissed to Bofur, showing him the pamphlet.

“Get us all the way to Vegas,” Bofur winked.

Nori nodded and pushed down his suspicions. He was just on edge from being trapped in Cedar City with no sign of a way out. There was a jingle as a door opened and in walked a tall, thin nurse, wearing all white with a face mask. She had a spider embroidered on her collar.

“Ah, first time donors?” she guessed, her eyes were sharp as they looked over them. “Not to worry. We pride ourselves on painless, simple, donations.”

“And the money?” Gloin asked quickly.

“Paid for before you leave,” the nurse said easily. “If you will just follow me to fill out the paperwork, please.”

Thorin stood up first and the rest of the team followed him. Nori followed Bofur, keeping a hand on Bofur’s hip as they waited in line. As much as he tried to quell his suspicions, Nori still felt uneasy. For being a plasma center, there weren’t very many patrons. It seemed quiet, almost too quiet. The rest of the team was brimming with excitement, the allure of the money too great.

The paperwork was fairly standard and, just for the hell of it, Nori used one of his favorite fake identities. The nurse didn’t even bat an eye.

She led them down a hallway and into a large windowless room. Dozens of beds were lined up on the side, each of them blocked off by curtains with machinery beside it. There were only a handful of nurses taking care of the stations, each of them in white with that same spider design on their uniform.

“This is state of art technology,” the nurse said as she gestured to the beds and machines. “Our nurses will hook you up to the machine and it will self-regulate your donation. We’re here only to provide comfort and bandage you up when it’s time. Please, each of you take a bed.”

Nori leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the back of Bofur’s neck before the two of them went to their separate beds. The curtains surrounding the bed were thick and he couldn’t see anyone else as he laid down.

The nurse who came up beside him had the same fierce eyes behind her mask. She was silent as she tied off his arm, searching for a vein. Nori could hear Bofur try to make conversation, but it seemed almost muffled. The nurse quickly wiped down his inner elbow and jabbed into his arm.

Nori watched with morbid curiosity as his blood began to pump through the tubing in time with his heartbeat. He yawned, suddenly exhausted, and blinked slowly, fighting to stay awake. He looked up at the nurse to see no one near him. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to close his eyes, just for a moment…

Bilbo stared at the plasma center. It had been hours and there was no sign of the heist team. Bilbo had never sold plasma before, but surely it wasn’t supposed to take an entire day! Bilbo worried at his thumb, a poor habit that cropped up when he was nervous. Bofur had stolen a book for Bilbo to read while he waited in the parking lot, but Bilbo couldn’t concentrate on it while Thorin and the others were still stuck inside.

Something was wrong. Bilbo couldn’t explain why, but he knew something was wrong. There hadn’t been any signs that anyone else in Cedar City came to this end of town, not another car in sight and no other patrons to the plasma center.

In his hands, Bilbo held the mask he stole from Gollum in Colorado. He still had his gun and the rest of the weapons in the van. He could…

No, no. Bilbo shook the idea out of his mind before it could fully form. He couldn’t go charging in, guns blazing on a bad feeling. But it was nearing midafternoon and Bilbo’s worry was getting worse.

He could just go in, check on them, and if there was anything foul afoot, then he would start shooting.

Satisfied, Bilbo shoved his mask into his pocket, tucked his gun into his belt, and made his way to the plasma center.

Inside was an empty waiting room with bare walls and stiff chairs. There was no one behind the receptionist desk and no sign of the heist team anywhere. Next to the receptionist area was a door, the only door Bilbo could see.

Cautiously, Bilbo pushed open the door, peering down what appeared to be a long hallway with several doors branching off. Almost all the doors were closed, except one at the far end that was propped open. There was still no sign of anyone in the building. With his heart in his throat, Bilbo slid the mask over his face and walked into the hallway.

Nori and Bofur taught him how to walk silently, despite the soles of his shoes. He was a natural at it, able to balance his weight and creep along the tiled floor like a whisper. A useful trick when growing up with lots of cousins and wanting to sneak downstairs for a midnight snack. It took almost all of Bilbo’s skill to creep down the hallway.

There was something about this place that had him jumping at shadows. Every creak, every rustle, had Bilbo’s anxiety peaking through the roof. He felt like there were eyes staring at him, watching his every move.

At the open door, Bilbo slowly peeked around the edge. It took all his self-control not to gasp aloud at what he saw.

Thirteen beds lined up with thirteen unconscious bodies. Each one hooked up to an IV and their shirts cut open. The one closest to Bilbo was Bombur and a spindly nurse stood over his body, a marker in hand. The nurse hummed quietly to themself as they continued to draw over Bombur’s chest.

“You’ll be worth a pretty penny, I’m sure,” they mumbled softly.

To Bilbo’s horror, the nurse was drawing incision markings on Bombur’s body. Bilbo could hear brief snatches of what they was saying – talking about the black market and prices of human organs. Bilbo suddenly remembered the basement in Iowa, seeing buckets of human entrails.

From the other side of the room came another nurse. She was also tall and thin but wore no mask to cover her wide, sharp smile.

“Everything is prepared,” she said. “Are they still under?”

“Yes,” the nurse said. “Is it time?”

She nodded and the other nurse pulled out a scalpel, raising it over Bombur’s chest. In a panic, Bilbo reached into his pocket and his hands wrapped around a small rock – a little thing he picked up at Beorn’s as a memento. Bilbo grabbed the rock and chucked it across the hallway; he had other tokens from Beorn’s house.

The sound of the rock clattering on the tile floor echoed in the hallway and through the room. The two nurses snapped their heads up. Please take the bait, Bilbo begged internally. After what felt like minutes, but was at most ten seconds, the nurses stalked out of the room. Bilbo pressed himself against the wall, trying to look as small and invisible as possible.

Luckily, the nurses didn’t look down towards him, just walked towards where Bilbo threw the rock. Bilbo watched, with increasing dread, as the nurses pulled out knives from their pockets. Throwing all caution to the wind, Bilbo waited until the nurses were out of his sight before dashing into the large room.

He closed the door behind him, pulling a small chair over to block the door. If the nurses came back, it wouldn’t do much but it was better than nothing at all. Satisfied, Bilbo lifted his mask and turned to the beds.

Quickly, Bilbo ran from bed to bed, pulling out the IV lines and shaking them awake. Whatever drug was in those tubes left the heist team groggy, especially the two young boys who only groaned on the bed while everyone else stumbled up. At the very last bed was Thorin and, when Bilbo shook him awake, his blue eyes were unfocused.

“Bilbo?” Thorin mumbled.

“Come on, we must hurry!” Bilbo said. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Thorin, but he was vaguely aware of the rest of the heist team staring at them. There would be time for that later.

“It was a lie,” Nori mumbled, he and Bofur leaning heavily on each other. “I wondered but… we needed the money.”

“Not your fault, love,” Bofur whispered.

“Listen, we need to move,” Bilbo said. “They’ll be back soon and we need to leave!”

“But all our stuff,” Ori piped up.

“We’ll buy more!”

“We still don’t have any money!”

“If we don’t leave now they will kill you!” Bilbo said intently. “They were going to harvest your organs and sell them! We have to go _now_.”

The door swung open, sending the chair flying across the room. Standing in the doorway were the two nurses that Bilbo distracted along with a handful of other nurses behind them.

“Run!” Thorin shouted before the nurses could react.

Tripping over themselves, the heist team ran to the opposite side of the room – to another door. Bofur and Gloin each helped Fili and Kili get off their beds and start running. Bilbo pulled out his gun and fired at the door. The nurses scattered with a scream and the team sprinted for the other door, stumbling over each other.

“Our guns?” Thorin asked, pushing through the door.

“In the van still,” Bilbo said. He hefted up his gun. “You hurry, I’ll keep them distracted.”

“But – ”

“No, you must hurry!”

The rest of the team pushed past Bilbo, still weak and shaky. Thorin looked ready to protest again but Bilbo pressed his fingers against Thorin’s lips and shook his head.

“I have the gun, I’ll distract them,” Bilbo said firmly. “Get the team to the van, I’ll meet you there.”

The rest of the team had already ran out the door. The nurses had started to recover and Bilbo shot at them a handful of times again, catching one of them in the shoulder and another in the gut. The two nurses fell and Bilbo turned back to Thorin. Taking a risk, he grabbed the back of Thorin’s neck and pulled him in for a brief, hot kiss.

“I’ll be fine, Thorin. Trust me.”

“We’ll wait for you,” Thorin said before sprinting out the door.

Bilbo turned with his gun in hand and took fire on the nurses again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Spiders of Mirkwood being an illegal organ harvesting business was in my head THE MOMENT I started this fic basically.


	8. A/N

Sorry- this isn't an update yet.

It's just been over a month, so I thought I'd check in on you readers and let you know that no, I'm not dead and yes, I will continue this. I've hit a bit of a writer's block on where I want to take these next few chapters and it's harder than I thought. I've also spent the past month working on some original content and that's taking up a lot of my brain power.

At the very least, even if it's terrible, I do want to finish this series. It may take forever and some of you may leave, but that's okay! Thanks for sticking with me and here's hoping my brain juice gets back into business!

-Charlie :)


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